I get headaches. Bad ones. I know I have some triggers that make me more likely to have them and having a newborn in the house seems to set off several of those triggers (lack of sleep, not eating well, stress, holding my neck in a weird position for an extended period of time, etc.). So over the last three weeks I’ve had a number of pretty serious headaches. This baby is totally worth it, but it has lead to some rough moments as I try to meet everybody’s needs while feeling like a shadow of myself.
If you don’t experience headaches like this, feel blessed! I wouldn’t wish these on anyone. BUT they do provide great perspective adjustment for me.
When you’re having a headache, nothing is enjoyable. I would do anything to make the headache stop. And eventually, it does. When that happens, there is a bit of a high associated with it. I feel like I could do anything and all of the sudden the mundane or even downright icky parts of my life seem great! I’d rather pace the floor with a screaming baby while I don’t have a headache than go out for a fancy meal when I do. While I really do hate having headaches and in the midst of them it really feels like there’s nothing worse in the world, I do feel like they are a gift in how they allow me to enjoy and appreciate my life more when they’re gone.
This experience has made me think about my other moments of suffering.
I’m involved in a study of Romans with some ladies from our church and the topic of suffering comes up again and again. When we suffer, we’re often looking for the why. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? What can I do to avoid this suffering in the future? These aren’t wrong questions, but they won’t necessarily help us understand the purpose of our suffering. I am “suffering” with headaches right now and the cause of them is fairly clear, but I’d also choose the suffering over alleviating it by not having this baby in my home. But the reality is, even what I consider to be the “cause” of my suffering may not truly be the cause. Ultimately, I suffer so I can identify with those who suffer. I suffer to refine me. I suffer as discipline.
I have been able to see this grander scheme of suffering play out in my life over the course of the last decade. For the first five years of our marriage, Brian and I suffered through childlessness. We grieved it. I read and researched and met with doctors and social workers and waited. The waiting was so painful with many tears and intense loneliness. At times God seemed distant and deaf, but through my suffering I found God was near in a new way.
We suffered again through the losses of two biological children at early stages of pregnancy. It seemed so cruel to know the joy of a positive pregnancy test only to know the disappointment of miscarriage so soon afterwards. I wrestled to understand God’s plan, but was surprised by the peace and comfort I felt in the midst of that suffering.
After those painful five years, we were blessed to become parents to four kids over the next 6 years through international adoption, foster care adoption, and birth (and we’ve become a foster family to one more). Each addition of a child to our family has also come with difficulties. Lost referrals in our first adoption, lengthy fostering processes, complicated birthparent relationships, even a difficult pregnancy and birth with our biological child. God has seen fit to walk us through some hard times that have given us moments of questioning God’s goodness.
But I’m thankful for all of it.
As we have added a fifth child to our family (for whatever length of time the State of Nebraska sees fit) I have had people question our sanity. We have a lot of young kids who obviously require a lot of work. My life is full and exhausting and I think it’s hard for some people to imagine why we would take this on. I have career aspirations that will be put on hold. Again. But for me, it’s like I’ve been coming out of that headache fog. A headache fog that had lasted for five years.
The pain of our infertility and losses were so great, that the struggles of five children ages seven and under seem like joy by comparison. I am incredibly thankful for each of the little people in my house and I have a deep understanding of what a gift they each are to me. I didn’t earn these kids and don’t deserve them. They weren’t accidents or decisions made out of pity. They are blessings and their worth is much easier for me to see in the light of the suffering that brought us to this place of abundance.
James 1:2-4
Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
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